Ice Blue
by BreyerRose
Summary: The Motor City Machine Guns have just won the tag belts, but Team 3D isn't looking to congratulate them. Taken form prevoius events on Impact


It was wrong. All of it was all wrong. They had won; they were supposed to be celebrating. Chris and Alex had just defeated A.J. and Christian in a grueling but perfectly executed match. The pervious tag team champions had just excited the ring after a well deserved handshake; the Guns hadn't even had time to show off their new belts to the crowd when they were ambushed.

Team 3D hit the ring as fast and as hard as the Twinkies had hit their waistline. They had taken exception to all the jokes and especially the newly imposed weight limit. Brother Ray clobbered Alex in the back of the head a half second before D'von took out Chris. Mike Tenay and Don West shuffled through the papers at the announcers' desk scrambling to see if they missed the run in. But this was personal. Team 3D had plans in mind.

Brother Ray punted Alex in the ribs like it was last chance at the super bowl's winning field goal. Alex cried out squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. He tried to curl up to protect himself, but the larger man was relentless. D'von had thrown Chris to the corner and was landing stiff shots of his own. The young dirty blonde tried to fight back; Alex needed him, but he was just too weak from the match and the sneak attack. His legs buckled and he crumpled down into the corner. D'von simply changed tactics trying to shove his boot literally down Chris' throat. Johnny Devine sauntered down to the six sided ring. He was carrying that infamous kendo stick and bad intentions.

He mocked the booing crowd a moment, and then cracked the weapon over Alex's back. The boy cried out, arching up, and rolling away from the attack, but Devine used it again hitting him in the already injured ribs. Chris was somehow able to pull himself back up. He hurried to save his partner, the cries coming from Alex were worse than the beating. He wasn't even able to land a punch; Devine swung the kendo stick like he was Babe Ruth splintering it over Chris' back. The Motor City Machine Gun dropped to his knees in the center of the ring. Brother Ray grabbed a hold of his dark blonde locks, forcing him to watch as D'von and Johnny Devine lit into Alex. Chris clawed at the hand in his hair. He had to get to Alex. Brother Ray smashed his jean clad knee into Chris' handsome face then drug the dazed boy back toward the corner.

"Devine," he barked. "Get over here," his thick New York accent could not be ignored.

The young X-division star with stolen belt hurried to his place. A few whispered words and a pair of shiny metal handcuffs were pulled from Devine's back pocket. The crowd's displeasure increased as the amazing tag team's fate became clear.

"This dose not look good for the Guns," Tenay commented. "Team 3D and Johnny Devine set to take the brand new champs out before the reign even begins."

"Well not only that Mike, this is about revenge and hurting Chris Sabin and Alex Shelley. This is personal," Don West replied.

As the announcers were speaking, Chris came around enough to know he was in danger. He fought like a caged animal, but could not shake his captors. The doomed click of metal sounded around his wrist.

"You son of a bitch," he growled swinging wildly.

Brother Ray and Johnny Devine jumped out of the way, exchanging a high five. Chris struggled against the handcuffs, but the ropes he used to fly around the ring now held him in one place.

"Chris," Alex called weakly. Brother D'von had picked him up to his knees; arms secured behind his back and made him watch the whole endeavor.

"D'von, get the tables!"

Chocolate brown eyes fell closed in sad realization, while ocean blues widened in disbelief.

"No," Chris breathed out. "No 'Lex!" He tugged and pulled urgently in an attempt to get to him.

Brother Ray smirked devilishly, while his "brother" and Devine hauled the wooden tables into the ring.

Alex wrenched away from his captor, catching Brother Ray with a reverse kick right to the gut. He collapsed with the effort, struggling to make it to Chris. The blonde stretched out grimacing when the tight metal bit into the skin of his left wrist.

"Alex, baby, look at me. Get up and get outta here," Chris begged.

Large brown eyes met his and the dark haired boy shook his head. "Not leaving you."

Chris had to strain to hear him, but the crack that followed from the damned kendo stick echoed in his ears. So did Alex's yelp of pain.

"'Lex," Chris yanked again on his restraints.

Brother Ray dragged Alex over to the table that had been set up.

"C'mon pretty boy. Hit me again, bitch slap me again punk!" His open hand slapped Alex for good measure. "Give me that damn thing." The New York native snatched the kendo stick from Devine. D'von held Alex's hands out over the table.

"NO," Chris lunged but was cut short. "No, no Alex!"

"Brother Ray just cracked that enforced bundle of bamboo over Shelley's unprotected wrists. Oh. D.W. they've got to be broken." Mike Tenay's shudder could be heard in his voice.

Alex fell back onto the mat screaming, cradling his arms into his chest.

"Chris Sabin is going nuts trying to get to his partner," Don West replied. "Look there's blood dripping off his hand."

"Sabin's pulled so hard trying to get to Shelley that he's cut his own wrist on those handcuffs," Tenay added.

"You bastards!" Chris yelled tugging even harder, completely ignoring his own pain as the metal bracelet bit further into his skin.

"Aww, c'mon Chris. C'mon you can do it," Brother Ray taunted.

The boy pulled desperately, gritting his teeth as Team 3D settled Alex onto the table. The young brunette almost sighed in relief, grateful to just be lying down. His world was spinning so much he felt like he was trapped in a dryer. His gratitude was short lived as he saw D'von climb up onto the top turnbuckle. All he could manage was to close his eyes in dreaded anticipation. He heard the crowd gasp and heckle the larger team. Chris was screaming for them to stop, using obscenities, and even begging for the defenseless boy on the table.

D'von motioned to the audience then jumped without hesitation crashing Alex through the wooden structure. The table broke in three pieces and Alex seemed to be broken in half. He couldn't even roll off the splinters digging into his back.

Chris had tears in his eyes and they weren't from the deep wound on his wrist. He never took his eyes off of Alex though. He trained them on his chest watching it rise and fall, albeit shallowly. He jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jay Lethal and Sonjay Dutt had come down with the extra referees.

"Dude, you alright?" Sonjay asked.

"Get these God damned things off me," he gestured to his restraints.

One of the refs came forward with the universal key and undid the clasp. Chris rushed to Alex breaking through the circle of officials that had clustered around the fallen boy.

"'Lex," he gently placed his hand on his chest. "Baby?"

"Get back," an on call medic ordered. He pulled Chris by the shoulder. "C'mon let us work."

Chris was ushered back leaving a streak of crimson on Alex's fair skin. Alex was carefully placed on a stretcher and wheeled up the ramp. Chris followed close behind. The jarring trip backstage roused Alex. He immediately tried to sit up but the pain in his ribs and back stopped him dead.

"Lay back," one of the medics advised.

"Chris?" he asked weakly.

"I'm here 'Lex," the blonde leaned in.

"Where?" He tried to voice his next question.

"The hospital," the medic replied.

"No." That came out clearly.

"You need to x-ray your wrists and ribs. They're probably both broken."

"No, I'm fine," Alex protested boisterously. "Chris!"

"Does he really need to go right now?" the blonde cut in. "He doesn't like hospitals much."

"He should at least have his wrists looked at," the medic looked back at Chris, "so should you."

"Me? Nah, I'm fine. I'm more worried about him. What if I promise to have him looked at if he's not okay tomorrow?"

"He should go now. The longer you wait the worse it could get."

"I know, but I'm telling you he won't go yet. Give me until tomorrow," Chris pleaded.

"Fine," the EMT relented. "Go down to the trainer and let him fix your cuts."

"Alex?"

"I'll release him in a few minutes.

Chris nodded but said he'd wait for his partner. Alex was more coherent now. The medic preformed a simple test, pressing here and there on his stomach. He grimaced a few times, eventually the diagnosis was said to be badly bruised; not broken. And once he proved he could wiggle his fingers, although only slightly and with a great deal of pain, the medic gave in and said they were sprained with bruised ligaments. They wrapped his wrists in a thick layer of gauze and tape then placed them in black braces.

"Against medical advice, you refuse to go to the hospital but I'm going to release you into the care of your friend. I just need you to sign this release." The EMT held out a clipboard and a pen.

Alex looked at him as he just said the Easter Bunny was hopping down the hallway.

"Okay. Never mind," the medic realized his mistake. "Just ah… awww hell, you sign it blondie."

Chris scribbled down the forged signature hoping to be rid of the obtrusive paramedic as soon as possible. He got his wish a few minutes later, with a lingering look of disapproval the medical personal allowed Alex off the gurney and began picking up their supplies.

The two Michigan natives walked slowly and silently down to the staff trainer. Christian Cage was lying on a cot with ice resting on his ankle.

"Jesus Christ, you're alive," he greeted.

Alex grimaced in his direction and gingerly collapsed into an unoccupied chair.

"That was crazy man. I'm surprised you're not on your way to the hospital."

"He wouldn't go," Chris informed. "Too damn stubborn."

"We just won the belts, I'm not getting put out for three weeks so they can make us drop them to fucking Team Canada," Alex scowled.

"Hey guys. Hell of a match," Tim interjected while entering the room. "Chris, let me see your wrist."

The young blonde sat down on the other bed and held out his injured hand. Tim set to work; he cleaned the wound with antiseptic, and then bandaged it securely.

"You're all set. Just make sure you keep it clean and covered or a few days. It should heal up nicely."

"Thanks," Chris replied.

He glanced over at his tag team partner. Alex was nearly asleep in the chair. Chris frowned at the deep purple bruises on Alex's midsection. His jaw clenched and he vowed revenge on Team 3D.

"You guys gonna be okay?" the Instant Classic asked quietly. "You could catch a ride back with me and A.J."

"Thanks, but we'll be okay," Chris declined. "How's your ankle by the way?"

"Ah, I just tweaked it. It'll be fine."

Chris nodded, failing to suppress a yawn.

"You two need some sleep. Get back to the hotel before you pass out too."

The former X-division champion didn't have the strength to argue. He placed a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder. "Hey 'Lex."

Mocha colored eyes slowly opened, "hmm?" He moaned weakly.

"C'mon baby. Let's get you to bed, you're gonna be sore as hell in the morning."

"Already there let me assure you," the brunette quipped.

"Hey, you guys need any back up let me know. Team 3D isn't known for playing fair," Christian offered.

"Yeah thanks," Chris nodded. "We'll hit you up."

Christian noted the look in Sabin's usually sparkling blue eyes. They were darker, dangerous. It was a look that was foreign on his boyish features. Christian was very aware of that look. It'd been seen on himself last month when Tomko turned on A.J. and he and Kurt had jumped the young Georgia native, double teaming him in the ring. Christian had not been at the show. It was bad enough having to watch the beating on television. He shuddered as he thought about being forced to watch first hand.

If Chris Sabin's icy blue eyes were any indication then the three responsible for this would have hell to pay.


End file.
